Ileni made the mistake of meeting his gaze. The hatred in it took her breath away. The Renegai respected their Elders, too, and Ileni would never have spoken of one of them so dismissively. But if she had, she would not have been afraid for her life.
“If any of you try to chastise her, the master will hear of it,” Sorin said. He sounded almost bored, but he was still gripping the blond boy’s wrist, despite the other assassin’s obvious attempts to pull away. Sorin’s arm was still inches from Ileni’s cheek, and she could feel his muscles trembling slightly with the strain. “He commanded that she not be harmed.”
“Well. That’s not precisely true, is it?” Irun stood and sauntered closer. He was on the opposite side of the table from them, but Sorin transferred his focus immediately to him, as did everyone else at the table—everyone else, Ileni realized, in the cavern. Irun was the center of attention. “He didn’t command any of us not to harm her. He just commanded you to protect her.”
“Which is,” Sorin said, “what I’m doing.” He twisted his hand. The blond boy let out a muffled whimper.
“Ah, yes. Because you’ve always been so obedient.” A ripple of laughter went through the cavern. “Your dedication does you credit.”
“Thank you.” The words were a snarl.
Irun grinned. “Will you fight me for her?”
Sorin dropped the blond boy’s arm and sprang into a crouch on the bench. His spine formed a taut curve, pulling his gray shirt tight. But his face was completely calm. “I’d fight an imperial dog like you for a copper coin.”
Irun stalked closer, moving like a hunting cat, and the assassins on his side of the table sidled away. “How fortunate for you, then, that I don’t consider the foul-mouthed whore worth even that much.”
Sorin leaned forward, poised and deadly. Ileni could feel his eagerness. The gleam was back in his eyes.
Irun crossed his arms over his chest and sneered. “What, were you commanded to guard her against insults, too?”
Ileni laughed. It started out too loud and forced, but her hysteria gave it an edge, made it real. Every face in the room turned to stare at her.
“It’s adorable,” she told Irun, “that you think anything that comes out of your mouth could bother me enough to count as an insult.”
His face went blank with shock, as if a dog had started lecturing him.
“If you’re done eating,” Ileni added, “you should spend your time working on your hand motions for the fifth exercise. They were quite sloppy.”
In the utter silence, she got to her feet and started toward the door. She hadn’t gone two steps before Sorin was beside her.
She managed to walk steadily until she reached the hall outside, and then the rubbery feeling in her legs was too much. She knew, dimly, that she should keep up the pretense in front of Sorin, but she couldn’t. She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes.
No tears. She at least wasn’t going to do that in front of him. She squeezed her eyes shut so tightly it made her head hurt.
After a few moments, while Sorin did nothing—what had she thought he would do?—she opened them again. He was leaning across the opposite wall, which seemed as far from her as he could possibly get.
“That wasn’t wise,” he said.
“Which part?”
“Any of it.”
“Including calling Irun an imperial dog and telling him you would fight him over a coin?”
A smile seized Sorin’s mouth and was gone, so fast she wasn’t sure she had seen it. “I tend not to be at my wisest around Irun.”
Ileni wrapped her arms around herself. “I don’t think he likes me.”
Sorin laughed, startling her. The laugh was astonishing. It softened the sharp lines of his face, just a little bit—but it was enough. Suddenly he didn’t look dangerous at all. He looked . . . handsome. In another time, another place, he might have looked a bit like Tellis.
But it was an illusion, Ileni reminded
“If any of you try to chastise her, the master will hear of it,” Sorin said. He sounded almost bored, but he was still gripping the blond boy’s wrist, despite the other assassin’s obvious attempts to pull away. Sorin’s arm was still inches from Ileni’s cheek, and she could feel his muscles trembling slightly with the strain. “He commanded that she not be harmed.”
“Well. That’s not precisely true, is it?” Irun stood and sauntered closer. He was on the opposite side of the table from them, but Sorin transferred his focus immediately to him, as did everyone else at the table—everyone else, Ileni realized, in the cavern. Irun was the center of attention. “He didn’t command any of us not to harm her. He just commanded you to protect her.”
“Which is,” Sorin said, “what I’m doing.” He twisted his hand. The blond boy let out a muffled whimper.
“Ah, yes. Because you’ve always been so obedient.” A ripple of laughter went through the cavern. “Your dedication does you credit.”
“Thank you.” The words were a snarl.
Irun grinned. “Will you fight me for her?”
Sorin dropped the blond boy’s arm and sprang into a crouch on the bench. His spine formed a taut curve, pulling his gray shirt tight. But his face was completely calm. “I’d fight an imperial dog like you for a copper coin.”
Irun stalked closer, moving like a hunting cat, and the assassins on his side of the table sidled away. “How fortunate for you, then, that I don’t consider the foul-mouthed whore worth even that much.”
Sorin leaned forward, poised and deadly. Ileni could feel his eagerness. The gleam was back in his eyes.
Irun crossed his arms over his chest and sneered. “What, were you commanded to guard her against insults, too?”
Ileni laughed. It started out too loud and forced, but her hysteria gave it an edge, made it real. Every face in the room turned to stare at her.
“It’s adorable,” she told Irun, “that you think anything that comes out of your mouth could bother me enough to count as an insult.”
His face went blank with shock, as if a dog had started lecturing him.
“If you’re done eating,” Ileni added, “you should spend your time working on your hand motions for the fifth exercise. They were quite sloppy.”
In the utter silence, she got to her feet and started toward the door. She hadn’t gone two steps before Sorin was beside her.
She managed to walk steadily until she reached the hall outside, and then the rubbery feeling in her legs was too much. She knew, dimly, that she should keep up the pretense in front of Sorin, but she couldn’t. She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes.
No tears. She at least wasn’t going to do that in front of him. She squeezed her eyes shut so tightly it made her head hurt.
After a few moments, while Sorin did nothing—what had she thought he would do?—she opened them again. He was leaning across the opposite wall, which seemed as far from her as he could possibly get.
“That wasn’t wise,” he said.
“Which part?”
“Any of it.”
“Including calling Irun an imperial dog and telling him you would fight him over a coin?”
A smile seized Sorin’s mouth and was gone, so fast she wasn’t sure she had seen it. “I tend not to be at my wisest around Irun.”
Ileni wrapped her arms around herself. “I don’t think he likes me.”
Sorin laughed, startling her. The laugh was astonishing. It softened the sharp lines of his face, just a little bit—but it was enough. Suddenly he didn’t look dangerous at all. He looked . . . handsome. In another time, another place, he might have looked a bit like Tellis.
But it was an illusion, Ileni reminded
Similar Books
